When Sand Meets Snow
by kyaru-chan
Summary: [Complete] On a dark, cold night, two broken souls find their way to each other, helped by drink and a little fate...GaaraxNeji [Warning: Sex, Yaoi]
1. Sand

I am posting all of these for the reviews, so please…review?

Disclaimer: Naruto is not, has never been, and will never be, mine. Pity.

When Sand Meets Snow

- - - - -

Loneliness.

All he had ever known, even when he was a child surrounded by people, was loneliness. Because he knew those people feared him, but he didn't know why. With a child's curiosity and need to be accepted, he asked the people he knew the most. Did he do something bad? Something unforgivable? He had asked with tear-filled eyes and a hoping heart.

He didn't have to ask those questions anymore. He knew the answer now.

_He_ was something bad. _He_ was something unforgivable.

All alone, in his self-created desert of a world, he lived, staring at nothing but his own reflection, living off his own shadow. Knowing only the sand that called out his name, called out for blood.

He had always answered its call. He had become as bloodthirsty as the demon inside, exchanging the love he never had for the warm, rich liquid that pumped out from the heart, for the tortured screams of the damned, for the pleas and cries that fell upon his ears like music as he squeezed the lives out of pathetic mortals who had shunned him.

And then, that unforgettable day. That day when light was brought into his world by something, by _someone_, so unexpected. It arrived in a glorious burst of yellow, orange and ocean blue, with words that rang in his ears and thundered in his soul. So noisy. So full of life.

But when he stretched out his sand-gritty hands to take it, it was whisked away. A shadow made of dark pain, with eyes as red as blood that bore loneliness equal to his, held the life-giving light in its arms, and the light held it back so tightly, tied together with a bond of trust, friendship, lust and love. It was not his to take after all. He was alone once more.

The sand called out to him again, called for him to become what he once was…to feel once more the pleasure of inflicting pain, of drawing blood, of _killing_.

He resisted, resisted for so long. Deep in his heart was the seed the light had planted, the capacity for love that he had so longed for. Never again would he be a mindless killing machine. Never again would he be used for anyone else's purposes but his own.

But oh, the music of the dark was so enticing. He longed to be once again wrapped in that blissful painlessness, to never know sadness…to never know hurt. Because he remembered what it was like to be hurt. Because he remembered that one person who he had loved, who he had admired. A person who, deep in his soul, had hated him so much. Hated him so much he had betrayed him. Had tried to _kill_ him. Unforgivable. Unbearable.

He had tried to keep the darkness at bay. He tried what the light had once, and only once, shown him. He took both women and men to his bed. He tried to recapture that brief moment of ecstasy, of pleasure so pure and so overwhelming that it bordered on pain.

He could never find it.

And just as he was about to fall into that darkness once more, snow-white hands stretched out to catch him, and snow-white eyes captured his own, and a voice whispered to him, "Take this loneliness from me and I will do the same for you."

- - - - -

Gaara looked down with emotionless eyes at the slender body on the bed. The beautiful, _naked_ body lying on the deep purple coverlet, pearly white skin contrasting with the ebony darkness of the hair.

He forcibly tore his eyes from the sight and looked around the room. An expensive hotel. Of course. Hyuugas only had the best, even if it was for one from the Branch Family. A half empty bottle of wine caught his eye, and he noticed another empty one lying forlornly on its side on the floor. He blinked and sighed. Now he understood.

Moving closer to the bed, he examined the flawless features. He slid a finger over one delicately muscled arm, over the firmness of a well-toned stomach and up the chest until it rested against a pair of slightly parted lips. Opaque eyes opened and looked back at him. A hand rose to tug questioningly against the firmly tied sash of his satin robe.

"Aren't you going to take it off?" the sultry voice asked.

The young man kept his closed expression and his robe as he slid into the bed, his thigh flush against the other's leg. His companion turned on his side to face him, dark locks sliding over his shoulder. ""Is there something wrong, Gaara of the Sand?"

"You're drunk." His own hand, tanned brown by the relentless sun of his country, came up to brush a stray hair away from that perfect face. "Why are you doing this?" He whispered. "You know who I am. You know how dangerous I can be. Why risk it?"

"Because." Petal soft lips brushed against his fingers and a cheek pressed against his callused palm. "Because the loneliness in your eyes is the same as mine, and I want to take it from you."

He watched, almost hypnotized, as one of his fingers slid into the warmth that mouth promised. Still, he persisted, "I do not understand. We were enemies once. Why do you do this?" A pink tongue slid up the length of his middle finger. "Why do you do this…Hyuuga Neji?"

The addressed just smiled and slid a hand over his nape. "You don't need to understand," he whispered, before pulling him down for a kiss.

Such a sweet, soft kiss it was that Gaara was shocked into stillness. Neji's mouth opened and his tongue licked over slightly chapped lips, begging for entrance. It was granted unthinkingly, and the Hyuuga swept in, coaching the dormant tongue into a dance of seduction that soon turned into one of dominance as Gaara regained his senses.

Tanned hands gripped pale forearms as the desert shinobi eased his partner down flat on the bed. Gaara couldn't think past the fact that there was a long silky body under his, moving seductively against him.

He tasted so good, so refined. There was a feel of mint and alcohol, of barely controlled lust and midnight pleasures, and a taste that was uniquely Neji, and Gaara couldn't get enough of it. His hand slid down a slim waist, caressing it.

Why did he feel so good? Why did he want him so badly?

No, he didn't care about the answers. All he knew was that he wanted Neji, and he wanted more.

There was a disappointed sound, almost a mewl, as their lips parted. The pressure on the back of his neck increased as the Hyuuga tried to make him kiss him again, but he shook his head, bending down to run his tongue along the slender neck instead. He felt the body under him shudder with pleasure. Apparently the Hyuuga's neck was particularly sensitive.

And so was his ear, Gaara found out, after gently licking the shell. The grip on his shoulder and neck perceptibly tightened and a low moan escaped from the tightly clamped lips.

Curiously, Gaara wanted to laugh at this, and he did, a low chuckle that made Neji open his eyes and smile.

And then he was flipped over.

"My turn," the genius murmured, a more sensual smile hovering around his lips.


	2. Snow

I know what's going on in the Naruto manga, but still, I think that the 'Sasuke going off to Orochimaru' was a pivotal point, and all my fics start from there, so blah…

I'm so mean to Gaara…

Disclaimer: Kishimoto Masashi owns Naruto. I'm not even Japanese.

When Sand Meets Snow - II

- - - - -

He seen him around before, and never gave him more than passing thought.

The first time had been during the pre-finals of the Chuunin Exam. Everyone had been exhausted from their excursion into the Forest of Death, dirty, grimy and bloody, clothes ripped and in some places, torn off. Everyone was in that state…except the group from Sand. They didn't even look tired. And the most frustrating of all was the youngest, an aloof redhead with cold, dangerous eyes, standing with his hands in his pockets like it was nothing.

Neji had dismissed him as an arrogant brat, too sure of himself, too obsessed with death to ever be a true shinobi. Nothing could change that look, he thought to himself.

Of course, he also thought no one could shake his faith in Fate.

When they had had returned from their Sasuke-hunt, all bruised and battered to the point of death, he was there again, still aloof, still cold, but…with a different look in his eyes, a strange, familiar gleam…

And ever since then, every time the Sand-nin came to the village, he would have that look.

That look haunted Neji. It bothered him when he was asleep, and he saw it every waking hour of every damn day. He kept seeing it.

He saw it in Lee's eyes when he gazed after Sakura. He saw it in Hinata's when her father praised her younger sister. He saw it in Iruka-sensei's when Kakashi-sensei had been away for too long.

After a while, after a mind-boggling inquisition by a certain white-haired jounin about why he was staring into a certain brunette's eyes, he suddenly realized what that look meant, deep inside.

It was the hatred of loneliness, a desperate craving for human contact, a wretched yearning for acceptance, and knowing that it will never be realized, never be acknowledged and never, ever be fulfilled. It was a look of pure _need_.

And Gaara had it.

_He_ had it.

The Sand-nin came twice a year, as regular as clockwork. He arrived during the boiling heat of summer, when everyone, Neji included, cursed the very clothes they wore, and during the most bitter freezing cold of winter, when even stepping outside guaranteed hypothermia, and he would always wear the same thing, clothes that offered no protection from the glaring sun or from the biting winds. It was almost like he was punishing himself.

It had been a night like that, a blistering cold night with an evil wind that made itself known in every nook and cranny of the lonely house until he had given in, and gone out to look for the warmth of human company.

He had found it in the slightly drunk smiles of Kiba and Shikamaru, who were celebrating their one-week-and-five-days anniversary. It was a typical Kiba idea, but Shikamaru didn't seem to mind. In fact, he actually looked like he was enjoying it, insomuch as could be deducted from his perpetual bored poker face. They had invited him to share in their strange happiness, and he had accepted warily. They had already gone through six bottles.

The night went on, and slightly drunk became extremely drunk, articles of clothing were slowly shed, the heat of the alcohol affecting their sense. Sloppy kisses were exchanged while roaming hands slid over heated skin. He was not quite so drunk, but drunk enough to quietly admit to himself that he _might_ want a relationship like that, something beautiful and sensual and free and undeniable.

Kiba started it with a not-so-gentle nip at the shadow master's neck. After a pleading look from the bartender, he had finally gotten a room for the two lovers, now half-naked and French kissing in the hallway. He had also acquired a room for himself, since he was hardly in any condition to walk out to the hotel's garden, let alone walk back to his house. But walk to the garden he did, leaving his unfinished bottle on the table.

It had happened so fast: seeing a flash of red through the falling snow, the lonely stance stirring something up inside him, a sudden sense of purpose ad he walked toward the black-clad teen, then warmth and whispered words. "I'll take this pain from you…if you'll do the same for me…"

- - - - -

He tasted hot and good and so… so _Gaara_. He couldn't get enough of it and he couldn't stop, didn't _want _to stop, wanted to do so much more than lick. To gently knead the dark rosy skin with teeth and lips, to tease with his tongue and stroke with his hands, to suck until the body under him begged him to stop, to bite hard enough to mark him as _his_…

"Ah…_ah_…nnh…"

With his lips pressed against the length of tanned neck he could feel everything, each and every moan he tried to suppress, every hitch of breath that seemed like a silent plea. He pushed himself up and sat back on his heels. The sturdy, dark-skinned form made a delicious contrast against the stark white of the open robe. And he was happy to be the first to discover that when the dangerous, unpredictable Gaara blushed, he blushed _all over._

Inwardly pleased with himself, he looked up into his lover's face. Beautiful was not an adjective frequently used to describe Gaara of the Sand, unless the speaker wanted to find himself on a quick and painful road to the other world. But he was beautiful. How could he not have seen that from the beginning? The exquisite shape of his face, the line of his brows, long eyelashes hiding emerald eyes, the elegant ridge of his nose, the delicate cheekbones, the cute bump of his chin, then his soft, soft lips slightly parted as he panted…so beautiful.

When slivers of green gleamed from previously closed eyelids, he realized that he had absently been tracing over those fine features.

"What are you-"

He placed his fingers over the other's lips, effectively shushing him. "Just admiring how appealing you are."

Gaara hmph'd against his fingers and mumbled something

"What was that?" Already his other hand was moving downwards, onto better pastures, as it were.

The redhead looked away. "I said you really _are _drunk. You're spouting nonsense."

The blush was too cute to ignore. He bent down to lick a long line from the base of his throat, over his jaw and all the way to his ear, absent-mindedly toying with a nipple. He licked the shell of his ear slowly, applying pressure to the hardened nub as he did so.

When his partner was already gasping for breath, he whispered, "You think you're not attractive?"

"Nn…"

Neji raised an eyebrow. He suddenly felt an irrepressible urge, and thanked all the gods that Gaara had made it so his sand didn't automatically attack and defend. He ran his tongue over his lover's ear, mentally apologizing in advance before he bit down hard, twisting the captured nipple at the same time.

Gaara's eyes slammed wide open as he choked down a scream.

Every ninja was at least slightly masochistic. Just ask Sasuke, or Kiba, for that matter.

"Answer me when I ask you a question, understand, Gaara-chan?"

There was an imperceptible nod and a whimper.

The brunette smiled, stifling the urge to cackle evilly and start torturing the boy underneath him to the very edge of pleasure and pain. Sucking gently where he had bitten, he freed the abused nub and trailed his fingers over the bronze chest, feeling the flutter of a racing heart underneath his fingertips.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly when it had slowed down.

Nod.

"Did I hurt you?"

Pause, then nod.

Neji smirked, and Sasuke would have been proud. "Did you like it?"

Gaara's head whipped around, treating him to a thermal glare, but when a nail gently scraped over his still-sensitive nipple, he bit his lips and turned away once more. There was another pause, and then a reluctant nod,

_Too cute._ Taking hold of the other's chin, he turned the unprotesting head to face him.

The kiss was soft and Neji was content to let it stay that way, but not for long. The temptation was too great. He ran his tongue over the lips before him, silently begging for entrance. The lips parted and he deepened the kiss, cupping the back of Gaara's neck and pressing him closer. The younger tasted of spiced apples, for some reason, and something else that he could define, something whole and earthy and sweet and addictive and he _wanted_ it, wanted to keep on tasting it, to remember it always, and to be able to have that kind of kiss, with the kind of fervor and with _that taste_ every damn morning of every damn day of his _damned_ life from now on, _godsdammit_…

When they finally parted, Gaara was panting from extreme lack of oxygen and Neji pressed his damp forehead against his with a mumbled apology. But he wasn't sorry, not really. He liked this feeling, knowing that the one under him needed him, wanted him, wanted to _be_ with him, wanted to touch and be touched, to kiss with fiery need, and to be drowned in pleasurable pain… He would give everything, _everything_, just to have this moment exist forever.

But that wouldn't happen, so he had to make do with now, to make it an everlasting memory for both of them. And he had a wonderful idea for that.

"Gaara…"

"Nn…?" came the breathless reply.

The elder said nothing for a while, stroking his lover's hip, long, slow strokes, each one getting very, very close to where the other wanted to be touched. Then hypnotizing pearl connected with warily inquisitive jade, and, with his voice lowered to a husky whisper and his body pressed flush against the others, he said, "Do you want to play my game…Gaara-chan?"


	3. What you get

(Edited for the second time… narrows her eyes at fanfiction, which is totally ruining her cool borders)

I don't know what happened….It ran away from me…It ran awaaaaaaaay….

Thank you to all who reviewed, much love to you all, and now here's what you've all been waiting for, the lemon to When Sand Meets Snow, and I'm sorry it isn't better.

Disclaimer: Naruto isn't, wasn't, and will never be mine. If it were, it'd be rated R.

When Sand Meets Snow - III

- - - - -

When he had been much younger, he had looked to his only friend to care for him. He had craved the attention lavished on him, but it was never enough. He had never _felt _it enough.

When he had been much younger, the sand had prevented anything from happening to him. He had never had so much as a cut, a scrape, a bruise, not even a mosquito bite. He had never been hurt.

When he had been much younger, his first friend, his only friend, the one he thought of as a beloved brother, tried to kill him. To kill him, to end his life, _to stop him from existing_, had tried to do it with kunai and explosive notes and his own body. He had _never_ been hurt. On the outside.

His tattoo. His first taste of pain. It had hurt so much, like someone was drumming on his skull with white-hot needles. It was unbearable. It was _painful._

It had felt good.

And then, life went on. No one to talk to, everyone left him alone now, except for the occasional assassin, and he welcome those. Welcomed those stupid morons-for-hire with they poisons and their steel and their minds full of money and…ended _their_ existence without even thinking about it.

His cursed life went on. He forgot his first brush with pain, and with pleasure.

When Uchiha Sasuke had drawn blood, he had been furious. Blinded with rage, he gave into Shukaku's urgings. And when he had withdrawn into the shared privacy of his mind, he mused over the fact that though it had hurt so badly, there had been, for a fleeting moment, a flash of unadulterated pleasure.

He had felt like such a pervert.

Gaara the pervert. Hahaha.

Then there had been Naruto, who was an issue all by himself, and that thing with Sound and Orochimaru, and then it had just snowballed from there, so it wasn't his fault that he forgot about it all over again.

The sand had never let anything hurt him, and the fact that he had sand that could actually crush a giant boulder into so much rubble took care of anyone trying to touch him. The only things to ever touch him were his clothes. His skin had grown _very_ sensitive.

Every brush of pain he had received had come with pleasure. Therefore, pain equaled pleasure. That was very firmly ingrained into his unconscious mind.

The Hyuuga doing…such things just served to prove his point.

Pain equaled Pleasure.

So maybe that was why he was now lying flat on his back on the deep purple satin coverlet, a silver studded collar around his neck, the leash tied firmly to the headboard and his robe thrown into the corners, leaving him helpless under the scrutinizing opal gaze.

Maybe that was why a red-and-white handkerchief, Neji's, bound his wrists together, and why three other leather straps anchored him to the bedposts.

Maybe that was why he wasn't trying to get away. He was just in it for the pain anyway. Yeah.

The fact that an unashamedly naked ivory god, and the owner of the scrutinizing opal gaze, was straddling his pelvis had nothing to do with it.

- - - - -

Gaara was really horny by now…not that he'd admit to anyone that he was capable of such a base and…and unbecoming urge. Neji had made him drink around a bottle and a half of something very alcoholic, and he was on his way to being well and truly inebriated. The fact that the brunette had been playing his body with hot lips and tongue and fingers did nothing for his libido.

The trivial bit of _that _being a good five minutes ago did nothing of the same. The naked Hyuuga was heating something in a vial held in place over the fire with a hastily rigged contraption, seemingly ignoring the very horny demon just a few steps away.

The thing about being drunk on an empty stomach is that the alcohol hits you faster, not to mention harder, and makes you do things you would never normally do, and say things you would never normally say.

"Would you come back here and finish what you were doing?" he huffed impatiently.

His only response was a chuckle and a lazy smile. The scowling Sand shinobi began pulling at his restraints, determined to free himself and pound the evil teasing brunette into the bed.

"Ah ah, Gaara-chan." Neji said admonishingly, placing one hand on his chest to calm him down. "Don't you want to play the game?"

"Only if it's 'Screw the Hyuuga'." The redhead growled, still tugging at his bonds.

"It is." The brunette laughed, slowly tracing over the other's skin with a finger. "Eventually."

"'Eventually' isn't going to work for me." Despite himself, he found himself arching up into the lazy touch.

"Aww." A nail scraped against a hard nipple, making Gaara stop and shudder in pleasure. "Be a good sport, Gaara-chan"

"You talk too much." The put-upon shinobi panted. If asking for it wasn't going to work, then goading would get him what he wanted. "Seems like it's all talk, no action."

----Whoops!----

The brunette belatedly realized that he had shifted to lie over his lover, and had been moving against the redhead's heat, multiplying the unbearable pleasure, bringing them both so close…

Gaara groaned in near desperation as the escalating pleasure decreased. "Gods…don't stop…"

"I want to play some more." The brunette said childishly, nipping at his throat.

The redhead growled, the vibration traveling along kiss-reddened lips. "No more games."

"You'll like this one."

Neji sat up, making his cock rub once more against Gaara's. And then he turned and moved down, positioning them in a very obvious sixty-nine. The young demon's mouth dried up in shock and a sudden rush of lust. Though it seemed impossible, he grew even harder at the sight of his lover's arousal, and the knowledge that, even though he was an unmerciful, evil sex maniac, the Hyuuga was just as needy as he.

Then the brunette ducked down and took him in whole, and he forgot everything.

The Hyuuga had a _very_ talented mouth.

----Whoops!----

"Let me go."

"No." The brunette started moving, grinding against him. "I don't want to."

"_Hyuuga_." The tone itself was a warning, and the green eyes flashed with something hidden.

The alcoholic haze put forward a suggestion. Act cute and hurt. The brunette stopped and with an innocent hurt look in his eyes, hugged himself tight, the very picture of an abandoned lover. He bit his lip and in a puppy-kicked voice, whispered. "You don't want to play anymore, Gaara-chan?"

The redhead frowned. He wasn't going to fall for _that_. "Untie me, Hyuuga."

"But the game-"

"We'll play a new game." He gentled his voice, bit it still held a thread of steel. "Untie me."

Though he was outwardly cutely miffed, on the inside, Neji was grinning. He would bet his house that none of Gaara's lovers had ever experienced Super Seme Gaara. He reached over, pressing his body close to the redhead's, fingers already tugging at the leather bonds, but he couldn't help one last whisper.

"You still want to play?"

As soon as the restraints were loose, he grabbed his lover, one hand on the back of his head and the other…the sharp slap across his bottom echoed throughout the room.

----Whoops!----

"Say it." The redhead moved his hips the barest fraction of an inch, moving in and out of him in an indistinguishable motion. "Beg me for it, Hyuuga."

The ground-out name brought a smile to his lips. He might act all tough and deny him all that pleasure, but he wanted it too. The bastard. He tilted his head toward his lover's, pushing his nose against his. "Please kiss me." He whispered softly.

The redhead obliged, brushing his lips against Neji. The brunette's tongue slid over closed lips, begging for entrance, and Gaara opened his mouth to let him deepen the kiss. Neji moaned wantonly in the kiss, his pent-up frustration making itself known as he teased Gaara's tongue into a slow dance that ended in both of them panting for air. His fingers worked at tensed shoulders and the back of the neck as he leaned in for another kiss, sliding one hand down the naked plain of a bronzed back, clutching his lover closer to his body. His mouth traveled over Gaara's cheek and to his ear, tonguing the lobe of his ear. The redhead sucked and bit on his neck, growling softly all the while. The passion increased with every kiss, every nip, every _bite_, until they were both panting and moaning with barely controlled lust and want.

"Please…" he breathed softly into his ear. "Please, Gaara, fuck me…"

----Whoops!----

Gentle fingers took hold of the redhead's chin, and the rest of his soft moans were swallowed in a sweet, lingering kiss, hands roaming all over each other again, soothing heated skin and hammering hearts, whispered apologies for love bites and nail marks, but through it all, they kissed, and when Gaara pulled out, after a very long while, Neji gathered the cum marring his lover's skin and sucked on his fingers. The redhead half-smiled sleepily and returned the favor, gently lapping at the white liquid until the other was clean. Neji hummed, just as sleepy as his partner, and threaded his fingers through down-soft hair, tugging lightly until the other rose and settled beside him, automatically taking him into his arms.

He pressed a kiss to the bronzed skin in front of him, over the still-rapidly fluttering heart. Then they went to sleep, his head tucked between Gaara's neck and shoulder, the redhead's hand still lazily caressing his hip, while his own fingers stroked his back, feeling fulfilled, safe, feeling loved.


	4. Together?

Much love to you all who've reviewed and all who had the guts to read it. I hope you've enjoyed this fic.

Y' know, this is the first thing I've ever completed. Just a little interesting fact for you all.

Disclaimer: Naruto isn't mine. The leather things, candles and oil are.

When Sand Meets Snow – IV

- - - -

Neji groaned sleepily and flung his arm over his eyes. The sun was an evil bastard, shining cheerily at him like that. What the hell was it so happy about? That was no way to behave when a guy was extremely hung over.

He grumbled as his other hand groped for the sheets, intending to use them as a more effective shield. He found none. This lack of cooperation was really pissing him off. It was too damn early in the morning to be pissed off.

He reached out again, trying to get a hold of something, _anything_, to put over his eyes. He faltered a bit when his fingertips brushed against something hard and warm, but continued touching along it. It felt nice and big, and appropriate cover. At last.

However, when he tried to pull it closer, he just ended up pulling himself toward it. Not that he minded in the least. It was delightfully warm, unlike the blankets that were mysteriously not there, and a welcome respite from the cool of the room. Eyes still closed, he moved closer and rubbed his nose against it. It smelled good, clean and a little familiar. He nearly purred as he put his arm around it, and he couldn't stop the possessive thought.

_Mine_.

He nosed it again, inordinately pleased. It was a body, he knew it was a body now, but he didn't know who it belonged to, and that didn't really matter because it was his right now, and it felt comfortable and he _liked _it.

He heard a muffled grumble above him and he realized he'd been stroking at the soft skin. He mumbled an apology and pushed his nose against the slender throat, seeking a comfier position to appease the grumbler. It didn't work. His leg slid between muscled thighs and he made a million other micro-adjustments, moving so much that the sleepy grumbling started again. He yawned lazily, knowing that a nuzzle wasn't going to get him out of this one, and needing more oxygen in his brain to figure out what he could do to placate the body so it wouldn't move away. He didn't want it to move away. He'd just gotten comfortable!

There were two small, flat circles on his partner's chest. As his warm breath puffed over them, they began to rise, but not much. He gazed blearily at one out of the corner of his eye, wondering what its function was. He lowered his head and nosed at it, making little questioning noises in his throat. They stiffened even more until they became two velvety, hard peaks, and he _still_ didn't know what they were for.

Well, if smell and touch wouldn't work, then maybe taste would. He flicked the point of his tongue over one, and was rewarded by a soft groan. Compelled by a hidden desire to make that sexily husky voice moan even louder, he planted his mouth over the nub, tugging very gently with his teeth. To his growing pleasure, he felt a hand fist involuntarily in his hair and the heat of a growing erection against his thigh.

"This is a helluva way to say good morning, Hyuuga." murmured a deep voice.

He looked up, letting go after a long lick. "Gaara." Now he remembered. Last night. Drinking too much. Incredible sex. No wonder he couldn't get his brain to function. It had gotten blown right out of his head. Repeatedly.

He could return the favor. "It doesn't seem like you mind." purred the brunette, one hand making itself known around the thick member.

Gaara moaned again. "How could I?"

His lover merely smiled against his skin, sucking slowly and with every ounce of satisfaction, around his prize, while stroking the throbbing arousal.

"You are insatiable, you know that?" The Sand-nin ran his fingers over the silky skin within his reach. "I've hardly gotten any sleep because of you."

"You're complaining?" Neji pulled back a bit to blow over the wet nipple, eliciting an appreciative groan.

"Mmm…no, not really."

Their languid antics had changed the initial flare of heated desire into a mere simmer, and the brunette kept it alive merely by touching Gaara. It felt…amazing.

It was safe in his arms, and it seemed like the whole world could be held at bay for a while. He was struck with a need to keep it this way, to not think about what the outside world had in store for them. He didn't want to break this haven that they had created, but as the older of the two, he had a responsibility. And, his heart whispered, you have to know how far it'll go, how long _this_ will last.

"Gaara…" he said hesitantly.

"Mmm?"

He schooled his voice into one of nonchalance. "When are you going back?"

The body next to his stilled as jade-green eyes tried to see into his mind. It seemed like an eternity before he answered.

"I'm not going back."

He looked up, startled. "What?"

"I was chosen to become the Sand Ambassador. Temari is going to the Hidden Mist Village, and I'm her replacement."

"Oh." He couldn't help the relief in his tone. _Gaara was staying._

They stayed quiet for a while, the redhead's finger combing through dark locks as Neji rested his head on his chest and just…stayed there, for no reason at all other than to hear the slow thump of his lover's heartbeat. He couldn't believe how calm he felt, in this hotel room that was too lovey-dovey for his taste, while the morning got on with him still in a bed with silk sheets, and while he was filled with the knowledge that this dangerous, gorgeous creature beside him was going to stay here, in his town, right here. He couldn't get over how utterly good it felt.

He felt so unthreatened and so untroubled, a feeling he had lost when his father died, that he had almost dropped back off to sleep when a question wormed into his mind. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Gaara's voice was drowsy too. "I thought I'd stay in the hotel until I got an apartment."

Silence again, but this time the brunette's mind was working overtime, connecting the dots and coming up with dazzling possibilities.

"Do you want to stay at my house?

His lover growled at him for waking him up again, but answered anyway. "Are you inviting me to?"

Neji found the nipple again and teased it into hardness. "Yes."

"Insatiable." He repeated, half-smiling at the ministrations.

"You know you like it." The brunette said smugly, bending his head to capture the other nub. "Will you stay with me?"

The way he said it had so many implications, and it echoed in his ears long after he'd said it. It even seemed to him that the heart under his lips beat a little faster at his words.

And then he was flipped over onto his stomach and pressed under a hard body, a raging erection between his cheeks. He turned his head to ask why, and his lips were captured in a tumultuous kiss, heady with passion and longing.

They stayed in that room longer than expected, but the sounds coming from behind the closed doors left nothing to the imagination. Gaara drove him through the bed again and again, and he welcomed it, always begging, pleading for more. They were barely over the threshold of the Hyuuga house before they were at it again, the redhead taking him forcefully against the door.

Love wasn't mentioned once during their trysts, and they knew why. It was a luxury they couldn't afford. Emotions were still running high between villages, and S-class rogue ninjas had doubled in number. In this time of instability, an instant of weakness would be exploited to the fullest by an enemy. They could not indulge in love. It was merely about sex. Just the sex.

But perhaps, in time, there could be more.

The End


End file.
